


Actions and Words

by Elfpen



Series: Born Yesterday [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, scarlet vision - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfpen/pseuds/Elfpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vision has been learning about the world through words alone; Wanda convinces him that the best learning experiences involve movement and experience, even when it can be surprising. Clint plays team stalker and matchmaker. Spoilers for AoU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Actions and Words

Being an avenger was a demanding job, which meant a lot of training, a lot of fighting, a lot of world-saving, and so many close brushes with death that no American insurance company would touch Captain Rogers or his team with a twenty-foot pole.

However, mixed in with the danger, it also meant a lot of downtime in between missions. Because of the stress of their job, most of the avengers chose to blow off steam in whatever way they enjoyed best. Tony blasted rock music and went to parties almost constantly. Steve took daily walks in central park because it was one place that still looked similar to what it had in the 40s. Natasha went to people watch at coffee shops, Bruce listened to opera and audiobooks, and Clint alternatively skyped his children and binged Netflix.

Wanda Maximoff joined each of them in turn, leeching off of their pastimes as she could to forget about her brother. Never in her life had she been in a position to enjoy a great deal of luxury or pastime, so now that she had the freedom, she wasn't sure what to do with it. She went window shopping all around Manhattan, and tasted so many different types of coffee she didn't know which was what anymore. She went clubbing, once, but was able to drink everyone under the table and New York's drunken flirts didn't impress her, so she did not go back. She tried the library, but it was so quiet she could only hear her own thoughts, and those inevitably brought her back to Pietro. After a few weeks, she found herself lying on the floor of one of the tower's common rooms, beating herself at Words With Friends for perhaps the seventeenth time. It was their weekly day off of training, and as far as she knew, everyone else was out on the town or hidden in some personal hideaway. She was alone.

Something fell to the floor with a crash. She jumped violently, knocking her head against the wall.

"I'm terribly sorry," Said the Vision, who was hovering near the top of a tall bookshelf. He glanced down at the large book he'd knocked out of place and back up at Wanda. "I didn't mean to startle you, I lost my grip, I'm afraid." He landed on the floor and picked up the book, coming over to where she sat rubbing the back of her head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," She flashed a smile, and glanced at the book he carried. "Are you reading the encyclopedia?" She asked incredulously. He glanced down at the blue volume in his hand and then back at the shelf, which held the other thirty-one volumes.

"Yes," He said, and sounded pleased with himself. He showed her the copy he held. "I've just finished reading through 'H'. It was fascinating."

If he had looked at her face, he would have been puzzled to see her barely holding back a laugh. "Really?" She asked, not sure what else to say.

"Yes. The majority of Mr. Stark's library is dedicated to complex sciences and mathematics that I do not find very practical in my life, and since I no longer possess JARVIS' unlimited knowledge through unfettered access to the internet, I find the Encyclopedia Britannica very…" He looked up at her. "Enlightening."

Wanda nodded slowly, not sure if it was a judgmental nod or not. "Enlightening," she repeated, and put away her phone. She turned so that she was sitting more upright, legs crossed. "And what sort of things have you been reading about?"

"A great multitude of things," He said, and opened his book. He glanced at the space next to her on the ground. "May I?"

"Of course," She scooted over, and he came to sit next to her, ignoring as she did the fact that they were surrounded by chairs and couches. He was bigger and taller and looked far more awkward on the ground in his cape that she did. It made her smile. He flipped open his volume and brushed through the pages, stopping to point at an entry.

"There was a woman called Helen of Troy," He pointed, "who apparently was so beautiful that men began wars over her, in which whole cities fell into ruin because of their desire for her." He ticked his head. "It is remarkable what humans will do over the most common things."

"I think the point is that she was of uncommon beauty, Vision," Wanda said patiently. He glanced at her.

"Not so uncommon. I might say that you would be as beautiful," He told her plainly. Her eyebrows raised at that.

"Do you think so?"

He seemed to consider it carefully. "Or very nearly," he spoke honestly. "Yet I do not see one thousand ships being launched in your name."

Was she insulted, or flattered? She couldn't decide, so she ventured: "And would you launch a war over me? You're a man, after all."

Her last statement seemed to catch him off guard, but the question was easy enough. "I would much rather fight alongside you than over you, Miss Maximoff, as I believe would any man with sense." he said, and turned back to his book as if they'd only been talking about the weather. She gazed at him in surprise and unexpected admiration, not sure what to say but not wanting to end the conversation. He turned a few pages and pointed again.

"Here is another… Horse racing. I was unaware that racing animals was an actual  _sport,_  but it is apparently very popular. They seem to be magnificent creatures."

"They are," Wanda said, peering over his shoulder to look at the picture he gazed at.

"You have met horses in the past?"

Wanda didn't have the heart to tell him that 'meeting' horses sounded very odd. "Yes, once or twice. They are still used as work animals in some places, and as transportation in others." He hummed in understanding, and continued to look at the illustrations in the book. "Would you like to meet one?"

He turned to look at her. "You know a horse?" He asked. She chuckled.

"I know a man who owns a horse, so yes. You want to go?" She was warming up to the idea. "It would be fun – an excuse to leave this tower, anyway," she smiled at him. His face fell slightly.

"Oh," He said quietly. "Perhaps not."

She frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I've never left this tower since…" he shrugged and eventually said, "from what I can tell, unless I am fighting for their lives, the human race does not welcome my uh, appearance." He gestured to himself vaguely, readjusted his book, and flipped a page. "It's fine, I'm more comfortable here."

"Vision, it doesn't matter what other people think about how you  _look_. They don't like how I sound, either. Americans can be… touchy when they don't recognize your accent – or your skin." She looked at his book, the way he was curled up and contained in the tower. "Come on, don't look so glum, we'll go have some fun and you'll feel better." It was the sort of thing that her brother would say. She thought she would try on his persona for just a little while, see if it helped soothe her. "You ought to be learning with actions, not words." She took the volume away from Vision and snapped it shut. She stood, and he stood politely with her, towering over her but looking like a child waiting on his mother to tell him what to do. "And if other people stare, they can stare at me, too."

He smiled faintly at that. As he was looking down at her, he caught sight of his own dress. "And what of this? I realize it is not… typical of a human men, but it's what I've grown accustomed to."

"Have you ever tried on anything else?"

"Well, yes, but… never for very long."

"Let's see it, then," She said. She knew he didn't wear normal clothes – something to do with how the mind stone worked, he'd told her once, allowed him to illusion clothes into being. Real as anything to the touch, but not strictly speaking, all there. The mechanics eluded her, but she liked watching his tricks.

He looked away from her, focusing on an imaginary point. His form shimmered, and when he was done, he was in the band t-shirt and jean combo that Tony Stark favored. It made her smile. He glanced down at his arms, which were bare and bright red as ever. "Maybe not," He said, and focused again. This time, he appeared in business casual, slacks, sweater, sports coat. He pulled the sleeves down as far as they would go and adjusted his collar to cover his neck more. "Captain Rogers seems to don this often, and people like him well enough. Only…" he reached shyly up to his bald, metallic head. "Do you think a hat…?"

"You don't need a hat," She told him, pocketing her phone and looping her arm through his. "You make Helen herself turn green in that look," She escorted him toward the elevator, and down to the front door they went. After eighty floors and about forty steps to the Tower exit, he finally understood.

"Your reference to Helen of Troy, Miss Maximoff… are you insinuating that I am beautiful?"

She laughed openly. "The penny drops. Come on, this way." She hadn't let go of his arm, and he was happy enough to follow her lead.

* * *

True to her word, they started their evening in central park, meeting up with a mounted policeman who owed Wanda a favor (he'd been drunk when they met, and she'd kept his buddies from making him drive home alone). He let her and Vision pet his steed, casting occasional glances at the synthesoid but not making comment for sake of Wanda. Vision was the epitome of manners, and even thanked the horse for its consideration before they left.

Then they went to a cavelike bookstore and Wanda bought a dog-eared copy of  _The Iliad_ for Vision to read about Helen and her one-thousand ship war. While they were there, a group of teenagers started taking pictures of Vision – he didn't notice until one of the phones made a loud shutter noise. He and Wanda both looked. The teens looked terrified when they saw they'd been spotted.

"Ignore them," Wanda advised, but Vision dismissed her kindly and stepped calmly over to them.

"Hello," He smiled in a friendly way at them. Some of them ignored him now, others giggled. One of the boys, after being elbowed by the pretty girl at his arm, faked a grin.

"Hey," He said back.

"Can I help you? I uh, noticed you were, uh…" He gestured back to where Wanda still stood waiting for him, smiling encouragingly but feeling bad. He felt awkward around people who weren't familiar with him. "I'm Vision," He reached out a hand. No one shook it. A lot of them were now staring awkwardly at the stone in his forehead. He lowered his hand awkwardly. "Eehh," he glanced at them all, some absorbed in his phones, other staring and trying not to laugh.

" _Just ignore it,_ " One girl whispered to her friend, who shushed her. Vision smiled, trying to act like he hadn't heard. "The greek mythological section is quite interesting, if any of you are looking for something new to read," He said, and glanced at the one who had greeted him under duress. "Nice to meet you."

He went back to Wanda, and gave himself a hat halfway through the DVD section. She took it off his head and put it on a shelf. "They're dumb teenagers, they don't know," she told him, and continued pointing out her favorite movies from the 90s. When he didn't move along, she took his hand in hers. He looked up at her when she did, and she smiled. "I said, let's go. I want you to try coffee."

"I've read about coffee," he said as she dragged him by the hand from the store. "Does it really come from a bean?"

She smiled as his sound of wonder. Focusing on her let him ignore the people who rubbernecked as he went by, who took pictures and posted to instagram even as he left. Wanda noticed, but let him stay distracted. "Well why don't we find out?"

They found a small café, opting to sit out on the balcony in the nice whether and watch the sunset. While Wanda bought an actual meal, Vision ordered only an espresso, which he now examined carefully with all of his senses.

"It's very small," he said, struggling to get a hold on the cup.

"It's very strong," she told him. This made sense to him, so he nodded and sipped at it tentatively.

"Oh," he remarked afterward. "That's… oddly good."

"Oddly?"

"It is rather bitter, but I find the overall taste… appealing." He said. He'd already made excuses about not needing food or drink, but she dismissed him and said he ought to enjoy taste anyway. He found he now agreed, and took another sip of his treat.

"I'm glad you like it. Would you like to try this?" She gestured with the chicken salad sandwich she held.

"I don't want to detract from your meal, Miss Maximoff."

"It's fine, I won't finish it. I'm used to sharing with…" she stopped, and swallowed. He knew what she meant, but said nothing. She recovered with a cough. "It's really alright. Here," she cut off a corner, and he ate it, humming pleasantly and nodding his approval.

"Humans are remarkably creative with food – practically an artform," he marveled, and finished his coffee.

She was about to reply, but the man sitting at the table next to them, who had been watching the two with interest, said not as quietly as he'd hoped, "It's so lifelike."

" _Excuse me_?" Wanda breathed, turning around. The man was flustered.

"I uh, I'm sorry, Miss, I just… your robot there, it's very lifelike."

"That's because he  _is_ alive, you idiot, he's not a robot,"

"Ma'am, I didn't mean any offense, it's a remarkable piece of work, whatever it is, I just thought that-"

"You  _didn't_  think – don't call him an  _it_!" She stood to her feet, chair scraping against the concrete. All the encounters of the day had worn her patience thin, and this unfortunate man was bearing the brunt of it. Vision stood with her, looking nervously at her hands, which he expected to start glowing red soon.

"Miss Maximoff, it's fine, he didn't meant to-"

"Then he shouldn't have  _said it_ ," she growled, glaring at the man.

"Maybe I should not have come," Vision said more quietly. Wanda rounded on him, indignant.

"You should be able to do whatever you wish." Everyone on the balcony was staring, now, and she could see two waiters from indoors coming to manage the commotion. She sighed angrily, not quite able to quell the itch of magic in her hands. Could they see it? Were they frightened?  _Pietro would stop me. But he's not here._ It grew worse.

Vision's hand covered hers and whatever flitting red was trapped there. "I know," he said quietly, and the itch of magic lessened. "But that's no reason to hate them." He glanced up at the man, who looked frightened and embarrassed in equal measure. He could explain to this man how he was a human all day, but would it change anything? Wanda's words came to him,  _you should be learning with actions, not words._  Did that translate to teaching, as well?

Vision apologized to the waiters and assured them that they would be on their way. He did not let go of Wanda's hand, and before he turned to leave, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "This has been lovely, but we ought to go home now." He glanced over her shoulder at the man, who looked confused, and a bit shaken, but also thoughtful. It was enough for Vision, for now. He thanked the waitstaff again and left with Wanda in tow.

As they walked back to Avengers Tower in the lamp-lit streets, their hands still together, Wanda eventually glanced at him and asked, "Why did you kiss me?"

"It was the most human thing I could think of," He told her honestly. "And actions teach us more than words, as you have said."

"Teach us? Teach you, or others?"

"Both," He said, after a moment's thought. She smiled, but shook her head slightly.

"Words are important too. You surprised me."

"I apologize, Miss Maximoff. It was not my intention." Of course it wasn't.

"I never said it was a  _bad_ surprise," She smiled at him, more coy than she was used to being. He wasn't sure how to interpret her tone. "And really, you must stop calling me that. I'm Wanda."

"Very well, Wanda," He tried out the name on his tongue, mimicking her accent so that she smiled. "Thank you for this evening. It has been most pleasant."

"It has," She agreed. They did not speak again that night, enjoying silent company until they parted ways at the tower. But just before they did, she released his hands and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. He froze, and wasn't quite sure what to do. She smiled at the reaction.

"You see?" She smiled. "Surprising."

"Yes," He said, and she laughed as she left him. It took him a moment to process his thoughts, so she was already long gone when he added quietly, "but not unpleasantly so – quite the opposite."

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

* * *

Clint Barton didn't like broadcasting the fact that he spent time spying on his fellow avengers in his spare time. It was creepy, he'd be the first to admit. But it passed the time and it was good practice, and he left them alone when he felt it was getting to personal, he swore. He wasn't  _that_ bad of a creeper.

Okay, not always.

Come on, how was he supposed to  _not_  keep watching when they started holding hands,  _kissing?_ On the cheek, but still. Clint was a married man, he understood how things escalated. He knew how crushes worked, and this was a biggie.

He liked both of them, and he didn't want to interrupt their little… whatever it was. But he couldn't just leave them be, either. He was the watcher of their odd little family, a father if you will. So Vision liked reading encyclopedias, he would like dictionaries too, wouldn't he? Clint picked up a used Webster's for a few quarters on his way home from lunch and found the heading he was looking. He uncapped a highlighter with his teeth and made sure no one was watching him.

Later that afternoon, Vision would find the dictionary left in his quarters with a 'For Vision' sticky note on top. There was a bookmark that fell open to reveal an entry outlined in yellow highlighter:

* * *

_**date:** _ _noun_

_**a** _ _**:** _ _an appointment to meet at a specified time;_ _especially_ _**:** _ _a social engagement between two persons that often has a romantic character_

_**b** _ _**:** _ _a person with whom one has a usually romantic date_

* * *

Vision frowned at it, but eventually hummed in interest and tucked the book under his arm. He walked into the commons room with a determined expression on his face. He found Clint there, popping popcorn while he waited for a movie to load.

"Hey, Viz. What's up?"

"Have you seen Wanda?" Vision asked.

Ooh, first name basis. Clint eyed the dictionary and smiled to himself. "Yeah, I think I saw her go up to the roof earlier. Alone. Had a book, I think?" he shrugged. "But I'm not sure." He was. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Vision said, looking at his own book. "She and I have been discussing literature recently, and I found an entry I wished to share with her."

"In the dictionary?" Clint gave incredulousness his best impersonation.

"Yes."

Clint shrugged, smile doing nothing to hide the fact that he knew. Lucky that Vision was naïve as he was. "Alright. Go get 'em," he waved, and opened the microwave. Vision thanked him and left. Clint watched him, munching on his snack. Eventually, he sat leapt to his spot on the couch and settled down with a smile and a shrug.

Eh, let the kids do what they wanted. He'd seen far odder couples. He stopped chewing to listen to Vision talk to Friday in the most proper, polite tone anyone could imagine. He shook his head. Yeah, they'd do just fine.


End file.
